No Tomorrow

“It’s so beautiful.”

“Open it,” he urges.

I do, and it begins to play a melody. It takes me a few seconds to realize it’s not just any melody—it’s the first song he ever sang for me that day in the park. It sounds very different coming out of this itty-bitty box, but it’s definitely “Slayer of My Heart.”

I gape at him. “Oh my God… is this your song?”

“It is.”

I’m almost speechless with the shock of such an unexpected special gift. “It’s amazing,” I finally say, still holding it delicately in my hand. “How did you do this?”

He sits next to me, and the air mattress sinks considerably under his weight. “There’s this old guy downtown who owns an antique shop. Sometimes I play in front of his store. Mostly for him, though, ’cause he likes music. I bought it from him, and he knew a guy who could make it play my song.”

Tears are in my eyes when I turn to put my arms around him again. “Thank you. I love it, and I love you.”

“I wrote that song about you, so I felt like you should have it.”

Wow. A song about me. And those lyrics… How did they go again? My mind races back in time to grasp them, but he yanks me back with a touch of his hand on my thigh and his lips burning across my cheek.

His voice is low and husky, filled with pent-up desire. “Take your clothes off.”

“Wait… You have to open your presents first.” I grab the bag I brought in with me and pull out three gifts—two for him and one for Acorn, who starts to rip his open as soon as I give it to him. Within seconds, he’s got the peanut butter-stuffed bone in his mouth. Blue and I laugh as Acorn carries it over to his bed and gets into serious chewing mode.

“You just made his year.”

“Good. Now open yours.”

He tears his first gift open almost as fast the dog tore into his and slowly pulls the journal out of its dust bag.

“Piper…” He runs his fingertips over the pebbly black leather. “This is fuckin’ awesome.” He raises it to his nose and inhales. “I so dig the smell of leather.”

I smile at him sniffing his gift. “Me, too. And it’s so buttery soft.”

“It’s wicked soft. And you got me a pen.” He twirls the pen around in his fingers the way a seasoned drum player spins their sticks. “This is really cool.”

“Open the next one.”

“You shouldn’t have gotten me so much, babe,” he says as he unwraps his second gift. “I feel bad I only got you one.”

“Stop. It’s not a competition. What you gave me is priceless. It’s your song. And the bird… I know how much it means to you. It makes it even more special to me.”

He nods solemnly and carefully pulls the beaded necklace out of the thin black velvet box.

“These are onyx and hematite,” I say quickly, hoping the way he’s staring at it isn’t a sign that he doesn’t like it. “It’s for healing, luck, and protection.”

“Man… I don’t know what to say. This is so thoughtful. And special. Like you.” He clasps the necklace around his neck and touches it at the front of his chest. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do. Don’t be silly.”

“I should’ve been with you yesterday. I know that, Piper. I’m a dick, but I’m not a stupid dick.”

“Blue, you’re not any kind of dick.”

“I am. And you let me be one. You’re the first person to ever make me wish I wasn’t like this.”

“Isn’t that part of love? Loving someone no matter what? Inspiring them? Wanting to be better together?”

“For some. You sure as shit make my life better.”

“You make mine better, too. Of course I wish you were there yesterday, but it’s okay. We’re together now, and I’m happy.”

He puts his journal off to the side and then pushes me down on the bed, slowly crawling on top of me. “I’m gonna show you how happy you make me,” he says hoarsely and grinds his hard cock against my thigh. Capturing my mouth with his, he kisses me so deep I lose my breath and my mind, and I tumble into a sensual, woozy, dreamlike state. Blue has a way of making me feel entirely euphoric, floating, and disconnected from the rest of the world.

Standing, he towers above me and pulls his shirt off, then unbuttons his jeans and tugs the zipper down. Grabbing his cock, he pulls it out while shoving his clothes out of the way. I lie back and stare up at him, admiring his lean, muscular body and the ink that decorates it. He’s like a walking coloring book, all lines and images and shades of gray and muted color. Even in the chilly room, my body instantly heats when he strokes his hand up and down the length of his shaft. Reaching for me, he grabs a handful of the front of my sweater and yanks me up into a sitting position, bringing me eye level with his cock.

“Open your mouth.”

I obey, opening my mouth like a starving bird as I stare up the length of his body to meet his smoldering gaze.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he commands. “I don’t want you to touch me.”

His deep voice on those words burns through me like a shot of bourbon.

I cross my arms behind my back, and he slowly slides the crown of his cock across my waiting lips, moistening them with his salty pre-cum before filling my mouth with his throbbing erection. I open wider to take him in and let him slide in and out of my mouth. As he moves faster and deeper, I close my lips over his hot flesh. I know what he wants. I know what he craves. He doesn’t want me to blow him; he wants to fuck my mouth like he fucks my pussy.

Holding my head in his hands with his fingers buried in my hair, he rams to the back of my throat until his balls slam against my lips and chin. Breathing air into my nose, I press my tongue up against him and tighten my lips around him. The muscles in his stomach and thighs tighten and flex, and his breathing grows deeper and ragged. He’s almost there. Every part of him is focused on my lips, my mouth, my eyes. His control over me is an illusion because the true control is all mine. Moaning softly, I suck my cheeks in around him, swirl my tongue over his cock, and then lean my head back, almost letting him slip from my mouth.

“Fuck….” His hands tighten in my hair and he yanks my skull back to him, sinking deep into my mouth as he comes with thrusting hips and deep, growling groans that make my insides quiver. Sucking him harder, I milk every bit out of him until his hands are limp on my head and he pulls away to drop to his knees in front of me.

“You destroy me, babe. Come here.” He pulls me into his arms, kissing me even though I just had a mouthful of his cock and cum.

“Merry Christmas.”

“That was beyond fuckin’ merry.” Pulling my sweater up with one hand, he rips off my bra with the other and scatters kisses and random bite marks over my upper body as he takes off the rest of my clothes.

Breathless, we fall onto the bed together, pulling the blanket over us, and he moves between my open legs to lick me until I’m in a multiple-orgasmic daze, barely able to form coherent thoughts. Kissing me softly, he wraps me up in his arms and sings to me as I fall asleep, and just when I didn’t think I could fall any harder for him, I do.

For my week stay-cation from work, I’ve been spending my time checking out apartments and hanging out with Blue as much as possible. If it’s not too cold for his fingers, he still plays at the park on most afternoons. Twice this week, he played at the bar, and I loved listening to him actually sing and play guitar live and watching him move around so confidently on the stage. Judging from the reaction from the other people in the bar, they loved him, too.

Despite my mother’s mounting disapproval, I’ve stayed with Evan overnight several times this week—only going home to shower, change, and take care of Archie. Blue’s been in a great mood, and I feel as though we’re in a good place together. We’re moving forward slowly but surely. He didn’t take me up on my invitation to accompany me to look at apartments, so I left it alone to avoid pushing him into a bad mood again. My hope is once I move into my own place, I can slowly coax him into shorts visits, which will hopefully lead to him agreeing to move in. Surely he’d much rather live in a nice apartment with me than in the shed.

Today, after much inner debate, I took the leap and put down a deposit on the apartment I like most. It’s half a duplex, which is like two small houses stuck together. I like that better than an apartment building because it feels more like a home to me. It’s perfect, with two bedrooms, lots of windows, a small galley kitchen, large living room, and bathroom. As a bonus, it’s pet friendly and has a small fenced-in yard. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t envision Acorn running around that yard, chasing a ball someday.

To celebrate, I meet Ditra for dinner, and we talk about guys and work and decorating ideas for my new place. Ditra loves to paint and she knows how to do faux painting for accent walls, so I’m excited to really make the place my own. We make plans to meet up next week for our dinner ritual and shopping. I’m glad we’re back on track and she’s forgiven me for becoming a temporary hermit while I got my head together. I’m thankful she’s not the type of friend to hold a grudge.